Bachelor Auction (33 page)

rotating with each rise and fall. “For God’s

sake...don’t...”
Stop. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

She’d done it. Stripped away every last shred of

his control. There was no turning back. He was too

far gone.

Now if he could just get his hands on her.

****

Charlotte tried to focus on the pleasure his body

brought her, but her mind refused to let her. And

her heart simply wasn’t in it. This wasn’t what she

wanted.

She had ignored his pleas, even closed her eyes

to the obvious pain she inflicted. She had

manipulated his body’s response with moves only a

eunuch could resist. But it wasn’t enough. She

wanted—no, needed—his participation. She needed

him to want her as much as she did him.

Pausing halfway through an upward stroke, she

looked at him. Judging from his contorted features

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and the way he strained against his bindings, that

was never going to happen. He would fight to the

end.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t force him to have

sex with her. What would that prove when it was so

clear he didn’t want to? That she was capable of

rape?

The weight of her body, not to mention her

shame, carried her back down until he once more

filled her. She’d wanted him for so long and hated to

give him up. Yet, over and over again, he’d said no.

But why?

There’s one thing I want more
.

Panic filled her. Was he still holding out for a

relationship? Why wouldn’t he just accept what she

offered? Intimacy without commitment. Sex without

strings. Wasn’t that what all men wanted?

But then, Marcus wasn’t like most other men.

He would never force a woman once she made it

plain, as he had done, she didn’t want to continue.

A bucket of ice water couldn’t have chilled her

more as she realized she was no better than the men

she loathed. Instead of turning into her mother as

she’d feared, the unthinkable had happened. She

had turned into her father. This was the exact sort of

thing he would condone.

Sickened, she reached over Marcus’s head to

untie his wrists. The moisture of unshed tears stung

her eyes, making it difficult to see. His continued

struggle didn’t help either. “Stop. You’re just making

the knot tighter.”

“Hurry, damn you.”

His eagerness hurt, but she tried to do as he

asked. “I’m sorry.” His chest heaved with each

breath, making her wobble. “Let me get up.”

“No, don’t,” he bit out, apparently still close to

the edge and fighting it. The knot began to unravel,

and he yanked one hand free.

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“There.” She sat back, desperate to leave now,

before he had the other untied. She couldn’t face his

disgust or another deserved rejection.

Marcus sprang upright, startling her. One arm

snaked around her waist, hauling her flush against

him. His other hand fisted in her hair. “Damn you

for this.”

His mouth covered hers, his tongue plunging

deep, mimicking the thrust of his hips. Her cry of

surprise turned to a whimper of ecstasy when he

repeated the action. It occurred to her that she

should stop him, tell him she’d changed her mind

and was ready to give up this foolish game of

seduction. All it would take would be to remind him

he really didn’t want this, that she’d driven him to

it. But his kiss was like a drug and her body, still

burning, refused to obey.

Joining his tongue in its mating dance, the low

simmer in the pit of her belly rose to a slow boil. She

wrapped her arms around him and tried to grind her

hips.

“No,” he growled as he tore his mouth from hers.

His big hands gripped her waist, lifting her to

unsheathe himself.

She wanted to scream. Was it his intent to

deliberately feed her desire, then leave her empty

and aching? Of course, it was no more than she

deserved, but still. “Please, Marcus.”

“Not yet.”

He moved her slightly over and grunted when

his hard length jabbed her left butt cheek as he

settled her, still straddling him, into the crevice of

his hip. He eased her back until she reclined against

his free leg, bent at the knee. One hand retained its

hold on her hip, the other spanned her belly then

smoothed its way between her breasts. “So

beautiful.”

The rough pad of his thumb circled her puckered

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nipple. She shivered. “Marcus?”

His dark green gaze, filled with want and

promise, met hers. “Soon.”

Charlotte closed her eyes, secure in the

knowledge that he would see this through. Even if

he denied himself, as he had that night so long ago,

he would give her what she needed. It wasn’t what

she wanted, for herself or for him, but at this point

she couldn’t argue.

Yes, she would hate herself later, but right now

all that mattered was the hot need that rippled

through her as he rolled one nipple between his

thumb and forefinger and laved the other with his

tongue. She arched her back and grabbed a handful

of his thick black hair to urge him closer, but he

continued to tease her, cupping, molding her breasts

to his desire, nipping with his teeth, licking then

blowing softly. Finally, he took her fully in his

mouth and sucked hard.

Shards

of

fire

splintered

through

her,

converging between her legs. She moaned and

squirmed in his lap, searching for relief. She found a

moment’s ease by rocking against his hip before he

once again gripped with both hands and held her

still.

She whimpered in protest, confused as to why

he would prolong his own agony. It didn’t make

sense when she was clearly on the brink of orgasm.

One touch and she would explode. He would be free

to walk away.

His mouth left her breasts and grazed a path to

the base of her throat. His breath fanned the side of

her neck then her ear. “I want you, Charlotte. I need

you.”

Her heart fluttered, but she reined it in. He’d

admitted wanting her so often then held back, she

couldn’t allow her hopes to skyrocket only to

plummet when he rejected her again. Yet she

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wouldn’t discourage him either. “What are you

waiting for?”

He raised his head, pinning her with a fiery

stare. “I’ve waited five years for this.”

“Does that mean you’re—we’re—”

He rolled to his side, taking her with him, and

suddenly she was on her back with him nestled

between her thighs. His fingers twined with hers

beside her head. “It means I’m not rushing things.”

His lips slanted over hers in a kiss that stole her

breath. Hot, wet, coaxing her return to the pinnacle

where she’d stood moments ago. He angled his hips,

and she felt the head of his erection penetrate her.

“I want it all.” He pulled out and pushed

forward again, stopping half way this time before

retreating. “I want everything.”

He plunged to the hilt. Her muscles clamped

around him. She bit back a moan, waiting for him to

withdraw again. He kissed her again, slow and

sweet. “Everything, Charlotte. No more holding

back.”

He held her gaze and began to rock. Though

frightened of the intensity she saw there, she drew

her knees up and opened herself to receive him more

fully.

He groaned. “That’s it. But I want more.”

Untangling their fingers, he braced himself

above her and drove deeper. A jolt of icy-hot fire shot

down her thighs. She dug her heels into the mattress

and met his agonizingly slow thrusts.

“More.”

She fisted the sheet and threw back her head,

afraid to let go, yet just as afraid—if not more so—to

resist. The pleasure was almost painful. But not

near as painful as the crack forming in the hard

shell around her heart.

“Don’t fight it.” Each gravelly word strained

between clenched teeth. Perspiration beaded his

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forehead, chest, and straining arms. “Give it to me.

Everything you are.”

She shook her head. He didn’t know what he

was asking. “It’s too much.”

“It’s not enough.” He paused and reached

between their bodies. His thumb found her clit and

pressed. Her muscles contracted around him. He

plunged again and again, increasing the pace,

rotating, thrusting, slamming into her. “It’s not

enough.”

A wave of ecstasy crashed in on her, originating

at the place he touched deep inside and spiraling

outward until her entire being throbbed. Then

something even greater burst inside her. Something

that had nothing to do with physical satisfaction.

Something so achingly sweet and beautiful, it hurt

to look at him.

Yet she couldn’t not look. He was magnificent,

his sculpted features dark and sensual, as he

watched her watching him, postponing his release

until hers began to ebb. Then he thrust one last

time, threw back his head and shouted her name.

When the last shuddering pulse faded, he

lowered himself to his elbows and buried his face in

the crook of her shoulder. “It’ll never be enough.”

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It’ll never be enough.

Charlotte stared at the ceiling, Marcus’s weight

pressing her into the mattress. He was right.

In all her experience, which wasn’t as much as

he believed, she’d never known anything close to

what they had just shared. No one had ever made

her feel the closeness, the almost spiritual bonding

he had. And now that she had known his most

intimate touch, this brief moment with him would

never be enough.

What a fool she’d been to think making love

with Marcus would get him out of her system.

Instead, he had burrowed deeper, made her want

more. So much more. He’d made her consider the

impossible, such as exploring the relationship he’d

hinted at so many times. It probably wouldn’t last,

but then a short time was better than no time with

Marcus. And she might even succeed in finally

ridding herself of this irritating attraction.

Definitely a fool. And yet...

Biting her lip, Charlotte lifted a hand to caress

the damp hair at the back of his neck, but he rolled

off her to sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on his

knees, head in hands. “I can’t believe I did this.”

Her hand fell to the sheet as guilt rose again to

choke her. Geez, how could she have forgotten how

hard he’d struggled to maintain control of his body’s

needs? She didn’t have to close her eyes to picture

his face, pinched with anger, before he’d given in. He

might have enjoyed the sex once he let go, embraced

every moment of passion with fierce abandon while

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it lasted, but he regretted it now.

Just as she had intended.

Shrugging off her doubts, she dismissed the

insane notion of forgoing her original plan. This

wasn’t the time to start second guessing herself. She

needed to make sure he didn’t change his mind. Or

hers.

She swiped away the tears she’d fought all night

and forced a satisfied purr in her voice. “I can’t

believe it either. You really are as good as they say.

Better actually.”

His hands stilled in his hair, fingers tightening

at the roots. The taut muscles of his tanned back

and shoulders, damp and glistening in the lamp

light, stiffened.

“And if it wasn’t enough for you, I’m good for

round two anytime you’re ready.” She swallowed the

rising nausea and waited for his reaction. When

none came, she rolled to her side and laid a hand at

the base of his spine. “I could tie you up again.”

He shot off the bed. “Don’t.”

“Is that a no?” Watching him discard the condom

in the waste basket and grab his jeans off the floor,